Wetting Boughs
by sinecure
Summary: Rose wants to go somewhere and the Doctor wonders why.


**Title:** Wetting Boughs  
**Author:** sinecure  
**Character/Pairing:** Ten, Rose  
**Rating:** All ages  
**Genre:** Gen, humor, fluff, fluff, fluff  
**Summary:** Rose wants to go somewhere and the Doctor wonders why.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Doctor Who.  
**Author's Notes:** This fic hasn't seen a single beta, and I'm sorry for that. I realized how long it'd been since I posted a fic and wanted to get one out there, and since this one is ready, minus the beta, I figured it was the best candidate.

* * *

The Doctor stood in front of Rose, eyes solemnly on hers. "Rose Tyler... will you bury me?"

Rose rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder. "Dork." Grabbing the second shovel from him, she turned toward the hole he'd already started and sliced the metal end into the brown dirt.

"Dork?" he repeated, sounding like he had a foul taste in his mouth. "Dork-- have you been watching American telly again?"

Shrugging, she tossed a shovel-full of dirt to the pile on the side of the foot deep hole. "Maybe. What of it? It's a good word. Fits you to a tee."

"But it's just so... American." Dropping to his dirty knees, he clawed at the ground, scooping handfuls of dirt out of the hole.

She glanced down at him with a bemused look. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

The Doctor straightened up. "No. It's not. Of course it's not. I love America." Shoving more dirt to the side with just trailing fingers, he dipped his head to the job. "They've got the Empire State Building. The Statue of Liberty-- well, one of them anyway. Hollywood. Cowboy hats! The Eiffel Tower--"

"That's in France," she laughed, leaning on the shovel handle and squinting down at him. The blue sun blinded her, the warmth of it causing a sheen of sweat to gather on her skin. It was warm today. Hopefully they'd be able to finish their task before the sun went down again, otherwise they'd be stuck here another day or two.

This ritual was becoming more trouble than it was worth.

"Oh, yes, right. France." Hands halting in the mounds of dirt, he used his arm to push his glasses back up onto his nose. Tiny grains of dirt rained down on his jacket and white shirt, which was already smeared with dirt and mud. The stark white of it looked out of place in the barren Tunisia Hills of Lombart 9. "But I do love it."

She resumed her digging, tossing the dirt to the growing pile, wondering how he'd be able to breathe in the box with all that dirt on top of him. A daft ritual if she'd ever heard of one, and travelling with the Doctor, she'd certainly heard of a lot of daft rituals. "Only we never go there."

"We've been," he declared, darting his head up. "Utah! 2010. Daleks and Adam." Making a face, he squinted at the sun. "Still not sure which was worse."

Ignoring his irritated grumbling, she stared at him. "We were underground the entire time!" Chuckling at the disgruntled look that passed over his face, she smothered her smile. He was so easy to rile. "Didn't see a bloody thing down there, did I?"

He grunted, shoving a mound of dirt aside. "Yeah, no, nothing but a Dalek and a bloke who'd just as soon--" he snorted at her pointed look. "All right, soon as we're done here, we'll visit America. United States, I assume?" His mouth turned down in a pout. "Not Canada."

He looked like a little boy who'd had his favorite toy taken away. "Now what's wrong with Canada?"

"Nothing!" He tossed her an annoyed look. "I love Canada! You've got your snow and--"

"Oh, snow," she snickered. "Yeah, it's got that." Lifting her face to the sky as a sudden breeze stirred the air around them, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was such an enigma to her still, even after all these years with him. That he was willing to be buried in a box in a hole in the desert to keep the peace for two small villages... well, that was slightly beyond her.

"There's nothing wrong with Canada! I like it nearly as much as I like the United States."

"Poor Canada," she snorted, sending him a mock pout.

Sighing, he sat back on his bum and glared at her, resting his dirty arms on his upturned knees. "Do you wanna go or not?"

Shoving the shovel deep into the hole with a loud snick, she hid her smile. "It's just that I travel with you to see places, and I've never even seen America. All of time and space to see and I can't even--"

"Oi, all right." His pout grew, though she could see a hint of a smile. "United States it is." His dirt-smeared forehead wasn't even damp, she noted with a scowl, and here she was beginning to sweat.

Shedding her jacket, she tossed it to the ground behind her, nearer the TARDIS.

"Thought you came with me because of the excitement; the running, the saving people, the unknown and the extremely handsome tour guide that holds your hand throughout it all." He straightened his tie with muddy fingers, a grin teasing his lips and crinkling his eyes.

An answering grin stole up her lips. "Dork."

"There's that word again," he whinged, frowning at her. "So, where will we go then?" He resumed digging, shoving his hands deep into the cold ground. "Aha!" Digging faster, he uncovered a box that looked disturbingly like a coffin. "Here it is. Alistair had it exactly right. Fascinating with no technology to guide him." Climbing to his feet, he brushed his hands off, a futile effort if ever there was one.

"Alistair and his stupid box. Don't see why you have to be buried underground. How's that solve warring village problems?" Tossing her shovel aside, she wiped her forehead with her arm, grunting in annoyance when the hair plastered to her temples didn't move.

The Doctor circled around, watching her rather than the glowing yellow orb in the center of the wood-like surface of the coffin-- ceremonial box. "I'll be fine. Don't worry." Smiling widely to relieve her worries, he clapped his hands together. "So, where will it be, Rose Tyler? Do you want to go to Texas for the cowboy hats--"

"'Cause it's the only place that has 'em," she snickered, brushing at a smear of dirt on his cheek."

"Hush, you," he chastised softly. "Maybe New York for the theater, or, oh, California's got the celebrities-- maybe you'll catch a glimpse of that bloke you like, the one with the hair? Do you wanna go--"

Leaning down, she kissed the corner of his mouth, delighted that he was so willing to take her wherever she wanted to go. "I do."


End file.
